A Path Not Taken
by BethyPB
Summary: This story does not directly have any Warcraft characters or places mentioned but is more inspired by the World of Warcraft. It does, however, contain the different races represented in the game. For example, the main character is a Night Elf. This story follows the main character, Adalien, as she looks back on her life and her relationship with the antagonist.
1. A Path Not Taken - Chapter 1

It was a still, frigid night when I decided to depart for my journey. The only noise was the wind howling through the barren trees around me. The roads were covered in frozen slush from the day before when merchant carts rattled down them. Normally, people would have to wait for the sun to melt down the roads so that they could travel them, but I did not have to risk hurting myself to traverse the treacherous roads. My hands began to expel a frost blue mist, causing the jagged slush to melt and freeze to smooth ice beneath my feet. The only trace of my magic was the even trail of ice I left behind in my wake.

I wore cream white slippers and a white dress that trailed behind me in a train. To keep me warm, I wore nothing but a heavy white cloak and insulated white gloves. If it were anyone else, their body would have already seized to be found frozen on the ground in the morning. Though the cold did flush my cheeks, the frost did not harm me. I could manipulate it however I wished and it did not threaten to chill my bones. This is one of the reasons why I had been aptly named the White Ghost. I rarely came out into the world, and when I was seen I would be mistaken for a wandering spirit. It was also a fine name for me because of the death I felt inside of my heart.

As I walked in the darkness of the morning, I mourned those that I had lost through the rage of a ruthless fiend. My followers were known as the Diamond Order. They had been targeted and massacred over the last few months. Though I had known of this hunt, I was not able to act in the state that I was in. It took all of my strength these past few months to break free from the bonds that held me. If this was not deeply personal, I would have blinked to him as soon as I was able and finished him without mercy. But I couldn't bring myself to race to him. I knew what his ultimate goal was in the slaughter of my Order. He wanted me. He wanted me to hurt and rot, just as he was. I looked up to the sky, to gaze upon the only beauty left in this world, but the stars lay hidden. I sensed that they too knew what tragedy would befall me.


	2. A Path Not Taken - Chapter 2

The fearsome warlock leaned against the wall of the wide, stone bridge looking out onto the frozen river below. The falling snow had begun gathering on the ice, erasing the river from his sight. It had been three weeks that the warlock had been waiting for his ice witch to come. If he had to live for an eternity, these three weeks were nothing to him. He reached out to catch one of the gently falling snowflakes. He half-expected the snowflake to melt once it touched his hand, but with no circulating blood in his body to warm his skin, it could not. Though he longed to feel the cold sensation against his skin, he couldn't help but admire the tiny thing. It was very beautiful. He admired how even though there were countless snowflakes, nature had still taken the time to make each one unique.

Suddenly, a shuffle at the end of the bridge tore his attention away from the frail snowflake. One of his demons had found a rabbit and was chasing after it in a circle. He rolled his eyes at the silliness. His demon certainly looked ridiculous at that moment, but he was an excellent companion that had been helping him guard the bridge. There were bodies of at least 3 travelers that had unfortunately taken this route on their journey. While he did not regret ordering his demon to take their lives, he hoped that no one else happened upon them.

Seeing the torn up bodies reminded him of what he had done to lure the witch out of hiding. Over the last few months, he had hunted her followers. He tracked them down, one by one, and slaughtered them in a variety of pleasurable ways. Some he had chosen to incinerate, some he had let his demons have their way with, and the others he had beheaded with the heavy scythe that was currently leaning against the stone wall next to him. It wasn't the killing that pleased him, but rather the pain that their deaths would inflict on his foe that made him shiver with delight. His eyes flickered over to his scythe and his face scrunched as he noticed the dried blood still staining the blade. He peered down again at the river below. If he used his fires to melt some of the river, he could clean it. He grabbed the scythe by the heavy oak handle and ambled across the bridge down to the river.


End file.
